


Through the Looking Glass

by Spike_1790



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Dimension Travel, M/M, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-03-31
Updated: 2012-07-21
Packaged: 2017-11-02 19:45:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/372695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spike_1790/pseuds/Spike_1790
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. R/NC-17. Spike and Xander on another whirl wind adventure through realities. WiP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a Spike/Xander piece, but it will take a while to get there.

It really wasn’t Willow’s fault this time. It was Giles’ fault, and to some extent Buffy’s, but not Willow’s and _definitely_ not his own, or Spike’s, for that matter. Xander wasn’t too pleased to be spending some quality time with the bleached menace, but, as he had heard on a film once, “needs must as the devil drives”. And the devil- or a demon at any rate- was definitely driving.

 

It had started as a normal enough night. The sun had gone down, and the Scooby gang had met at Giles’ apartment. Spike had caught up with Xander as the brunette passed the vampire’s cemetery.  They had been doing this for a while now, just for the sake of convenience. Sometimes it was nice to have someone watching your back in a town where most things would try to eat you. It had been an ordinary walk, complete with the usual snarking and bitchy insults they always threw at each other.

 

They had got to Giles’ apartment; half listened to Giles drone on about a prophecy and blah blah blah. Spike had been playing with his lighter, snapping it open and closed, making the flame dance for a moment before snuffing it out again. Even Willow looked bored and she _loved_ research. That was when Giles had pulled an urn out from behind the chair he was sat on.

 

Spike’s head had snapped round, his eyes yellow and fangs bared. “Do you even know what that is, Rupert? The power it has?”

 

“It’s a Mojave conjuring urn. It’s perfectly harmless if used right.” Giles’ tone made it clear that Spike’s concerns were being dismissed and he would hear no more on the subject.

 

“No, you pillock. That’s a Javanese Summoning Urn, and can kill us all in a heartbeat. Put it down and back away slowly.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Spike. It’s just a harmless trinket I picked up at an auction,” Giles snapped.

 

Tara turned to look at Spike, her eyes wide, fearful. “What does it summon?”

 

Spike had got to his feet and was inching towards the door. “Something big and so evil it makes me and Angelus look like fluffy little puppies. And I, for one, am not sticking around for it to eat me.” One pale hand had reached for the door handle when a bolt of lightning zinged though the air, splintering the door into a hundred pieces. A roar announced the presence of the ‘something evil’ Spike had talked about. The sound made the china teacups rattle on the coffee table.

 

Buffy had tried to kill it. She really had. The axe had embedded in its skull and it had thrashed so hard she hadn’t been able to hold on. Willow had managed to summon the axe back so Buffy could take another swing at the thing, but it didn’t make a difference. The demon had lashed out with its enormous claws and smashed both the Urn and Buffy into the wall. Even as they watched, the fragments of Urn had glowed, shrunk, and vanished. The demon gave a triumphant roar, lashing out with its claws one more time before turning its back on the worried Scooby gang and leaving through the hole where the door once was.

 

Giles helped Tara up from where she had hidden. Willow was helping Buffy up, who seemed to be okay for the most part - Giles claimed it was a perk of being the Slayer. Spike had mumbled something about it being a perk of having such a thick skull. That earned him a slap round the back of the head from Xander, and a near miss kick from Buffy which, had it landed, would have had all the men in the room wincing in sympathy. They scowled at each other.

 

“Ah. I confess that I may have been wrong about that Urn,” Giles admitted, breaking the scowling match between the Slayer and the vampire. “Spike, what do you know about the demon the urn conjured?”

 

Spike shrugged. His indifference pissed Xander off. “Told you most of what I know.”

 

Giles sighed, pulling out his wallet. He waved a fifty dollar bill in Spike’s direction. “And the rest of what you know is…?”

 

Spike cleared his throat, and mimicked Giles’ posh voice. “The demon can only survive if the urn is in pieces. When the urn is whole again, the demon ceases to be. You summoned it by lifting the lid, and it ensured its own continued existence by destroying its prison. The demon has some amount of magic. That magic is used to make sure the urn can’t be fixed. It sends the pieces to other realities, or unrealities as the case may be, so they can’t be found.” Spike’s accent snapped back from the Oxbridge tones to its usual London accent. “Now, gimme the cash, Ripper.” Giles handed over the money and Spike neatly folded it and slipped it into one of the inside pockets on his duster.

 

“So we need to find the pieces and put it back together. That sounds simple. Where are the pieces going to be?” Willow directed her question at Spike, who frowned at her.

 

“Why the bloody hell are you asking me? I’m not an expert on places bits of urn might be sent to, am I?” Willow scowled and tried to look threatening. It wasn’t very convincing. Spike took pity on her. “There’s a spell somewhere that allows for someone to go and find the pieces. It’s not something you’ll find in any old book, because not many people are stupid enough to let the demon out in the first place.” Giles glared at Spike. “The pieces could have been sent to hundreds of different dimensions or realities or unrealities or whatever. It depends on how many pieces it was broken into.”

 

Xander had sighed. It was always his job to go and fetch things, whether it was donuts, or books, or Giles from the airport when he had returned from international magicky businessy trips. So it was a fair bet that he would be the one to go fetch little pieces of smashed up, demon summoning, ugly ass urn.

 

This explained why he and Spike currently stood on a street in Victorian London, surrounded by singing muppets. Spike had joined in with the song the fuzzy ensemble had been singing, before he caught sight of Xander’s stunned expression. Xander was fairly sure that if vampires could blush, Spike would have been bright scarlet. Spike mumbled that Dawn had made him watch the DVD on repeat, but Xander knew for a fact that Dawnie didn’t _own_ this particular film- she had told him when looking through the rental films in the store.

 

The closing bars of “There Goes Mister Scrooge” saw the blonde and brunette following the little glowing band that had been fastened round their wrists. The idea was, Willow had told them, that the colour would change when they got close to the piece they were looking for. The closer they got, the redder the bands would turn. The further away, the bluer the bands would be. It was actually Tara’s suggestion, and would hopefully make their job a lot easier.

 

Neither man knew how long the task would take, nor if there would be practical problems, like Spike’s sunlight allergy, or if the buildings were actual buildings and not just film sets. If their mission took longer than a night- or a day if Spike _could_ go out in sunlight- they would need a place to sleep. Spike had been smart enough to throw a few bottles of water and some food into the backpack they would be keeping the retrieved pieces of urn in, and Xander was glad- those singing fruit and vegetables didn’t look very appetising. Spike would have to find his own food because Giles hadn’t had any blood in the fridge when they were preparing the spell and there hadn’t been time for a trip to the butchers (which, as Spike said to Giles, was a moot point, because “the butcher’s is closed until morning anyway, pillock”).

 

 _The Muppet’s Christmas Carol_ turned out to have real buildings, not just film sets, which was good news if they hadn’t found what they were looking for. Spike threw a snowball at the back of Xander’s head. Xander would have been pissed off if he hadn’t seen the look of pure joy on Spike’s face. He had seen that once before, when they had been fighting a group of newly risen fledges. One had recognised Spike as an older vampire, had bared his neck in supplication, and Spike had struck, draining the fledge dry before staking the empty body. Willow had called Spike all kinds of names for that, but Xander understood- Spike had had his power back for a moment, had been free of the chip, and had been the Master he had formerly been.

 

Right now, Spike was as free as he had been that night. There was nothing to hold him back from ripping every single puppet to shreds if he so wanted, not that it would do much good. Xander paused. That snowball had hurt. He had been distracted from the pain by the icy water dripping down the back of his neck, but now that had warmed, he could feel the slight throb in his skull. Spike hadn’t felt a damn thing.

 

“Don’t panic, Whelp. Chip doesn’t work here because of the change in realities. Won’t hurt you, though. Your mates would kill me if you got so much as scratched. It’s just nice to be free, even just for a little while.” Xander nearly broke at the sad smile Spike shot him. He’d never thought about Spike’s chip other than it being a blessing. He’d never really considered the way it made Spike feel. Hell, he’d never thought that vampires _could_ feel- apart from Angel, and that was only because he had a soul.

 

Xander sighed. He didn’t want to know anything about Spike. He wanted to get the job done, get home and carry on with his normal life- well, as normal as a Scoobies life could be, he supposed.


	2. Chapter 2

After an hour or so of searching, being stared at by fuzzy puppets like _he_ was the weird one, and making forced conversation with an annoyingly chipper Spike, Xander was about ready to give up and let the evil demon take over the world. He had seen Spike happy before, but that had been directly after the vampire had torn apart the latest demon du jour. Happy Spike was something to be feared.

The blonde was jumping over benches and bins and puddles, duster flapping behind him. He looked like a child who was happy just to be out of school for the day. The first time Xander had seen that genuine Spike smile, his insides had momentarily melted. Now it was wearing thin. As was the constant repetition of ‘ _It’s in the singing of a street corner choir, it’s going home and getting warm by the fire…’_

“If you don’t shut up, _I’ll_ be going home, and _you_ will be set on fire.”

“What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Spike asked with a pout, like he was offended by Xander’s words.

“I’m tired. I’m probably going to get fired for missing work if time here moves the same as back home. And we have god only knows how many pieces of old pottery to find.” He flopped down onto a fake snow covered bench. Spike sat next to him, pulling his cigarettes out of his pocket and lighting up.

“Well, this radar thingy says we’re headed in the right direction. There’s only so far away it can be, right? Then you can get back to delivering pizzas or Chinese or whatever food stuff you find most appropriate. And I’ll get to go back in the dark.” Spike sounded miserable, like all the earlier joy had been sucked out of the universe. Xander felt guilty for a second or two, and then remembered that this wasn’t a friend or a co-worker he was chatting with- it was a vicious killer. 

Xander looked up. He hadn’t even noticed the bright morning light creeping over the rooftops and chimney stacks, but now he could see it, he understood just why Spike was so happy.

Ignoring the strange feeling that shouldn’t have been there, he pushed up into a stand and carried on walking. Spike trudged along behind him, still smoking sullenly. A series of bleeps from the radar on Spike’s wrist made him jump.

“Looks like we’ll be moving on sooner than expected. Do you think Red would mind if we brought back singing Muppet fruit for Dawn? Bet she’d find it funny…”

“Spike, if I have to frisk you for singing fruit, I won’t be happy.” Their eyes met, and a second later, both were on the floor, unable to stand for laughing. The stupidity of the idea, combined with the place they were, finally caught up with them. Eventually, Spike wound down and wiped the tears of laughter from his cheeks.

“Ok, mate. No singing fruit. Let’s just get this thing and go.”

Xander nodded. They followed the bleeps into a small shop, where they found the fragment of urn for sale. Spike hadn’t brought much money, and Xander hadn’t thought to bring his wallet, so they had to barter. Luckily, two cigarettes from Spike and a pack of Mentos from Xander’s pocket was enough to earn them the piece of urn.

The world shrank to the size of the eye of a needle, and then expanded out to enormous proportions before twanging back to normal size. Or at least that was how it felt to the slightly queasy pair who sat in the sun, trying to regain their equilibrium.

“I didn’t think Muppets would smoke. That’s gunna tarnish all my memories of childhood television. Kermit sits backstage with a cigarette in his mouth… Yeah, that’s what I’ll be thinking from now on. And where the hell are we?” No answer. Spike’s eyes were squeezed shut. Xander knew that look. It was the ‘Xander Harris’ Patented ‘I’m about to barf’ Look’. It didn’t look good on Spike. “Ah, looks like travel doesn’t sit well with you either. I’ll mock you for that when we get home.”

Spike opened his eyes just enough to shot Xander a venomous look that just screamed ‘when I throw up, you’re in my line of fire’. He sat back with a sigh, taking a moment to enjoy the long forgotten feel of sunshine on his face.

Xander watched Spike for a while. “Is that an alternate reality thing? The being out in sunlight?” As soon as he said it, he felt like an idiot. _Of course it is. Duh._

Spike grinned, taking in his surroundings for the first time since arriving. They were sat on the sun-warmed stone steps of an amphitheatre, the sun beating down on their bodies. A small group of people sat a few rows down from them. “I know where we are. We’re in the Life of Brian. We’re in the sodding Life of Brian.” And there was another one of those brilliant smiles.

 “The what of who?” Xander replied, feeling stupider than ever.

“Don’t make me bite you.”

“Seriously, who?”

“Monty Python’s Life of Brian. You must have heard of the Pythons? Life of Brian? Meaning of Life? Holy Grail?” Xander continued to look blankly back at him. Spike shook his head. “Remind me when we get back to introduce you to _real_ comedy.”

Spike and Xander stood, looking at the radary-urn-findery-thingies on their wrists. As they head off in the most likely looking direction, Spike smiled to himself as the group of people from the amphitheatre shouted ’Splitter!’

“How many pieces do you think we have to find?”

“Dunno, whelp. Could be ten or so, could be a hundred. Depends on how many pieces it got smashed into. I’m more worried about where we’re headed than why we are there.”

“What do you mean?”

Xander received another one of those ‘you really are an idiot’ looks and Spike explained it to him very slowly, like he was a child or a puppy. “We’ve been to Muppet’s Christmas Carol, and now we’re in Life of Brian. There’s a very real possibility we could end up in House of a Thousand Corpses, or Jurassic Park or something like that with killer dinosaurs or killer people. I don’t much fancy that myself, but you can go look in those places if you like.” Xander shuddered. Spike seconded that shudder, but there was no need to let Harris know that.


	3. Chapter 3

Darkness fell. Spike made the decision to find a place to sleep, preferably indoors and in a bed, as opposed to outdoors and on the dusty floor. It took a while, but eventually they found a place to stay. Spike had been alive long enough to pick up a fair few languages, and unlike the Muppets, The Life of Brian didn’t seem to be a film set. Instead of the cardboard sets and English speaking extras in makeup and period costume, the people here spoke Aramaic, Hebrew and a little Latin picked up from the Roman soldiers. Spike knew Latin from his years at school, and actually spoke it fluently, not that he’d let that bit if information slip, thank you very much- that would mean he’d have to read the Latin books when he was researching with the Scoobies.

A night and a day passed with nothing more than Spike being bored whilst Xander slept, and Xander being bored whilst Spike slept. Spike didn’t cope with boredom well. He hated having nothing to do, and it was far too dangerous to be out in a strange world on his own. Not that he thought Xander would be much help, of course. Spike fell asleep just as the sun was rising again, his dreams filled with surrealism. He dreamt of Xander telling Giles to respect carrots because of the prophecy of the ice cream tree while liberally decorating the watcher’s apartment with shaving foam. One of the good things about living with Drusilla for so long was that he had learned when to read things as significant or not. And this was firmly classed as a not significant dream. _Freud might have something to say about it all though, daft old wanker._

The next day or so was spent wondering around waiting for the Urn Finder Radars to beep. Xander was bugging Spike with constant questions and asking him to translate things for him so he’d understand what was going on. Spike was getting just a tad pissed off with him, but forced himself to grin and bear it until they got back to Sunnydale. _Should get a medal for putting up with the Whelp’s incessant nattering…_

The next few days were uneventful. Spike had enough memory of the film to be able to pinpoint what was going to happen and when. Wondering around soon got boring, and the sun, while nice, was starting to burn his pale skin.

They found the piece of pottery they were looking for in a crowd of people. Xander happened to glance up to see a naked man stood at a window, looking down at the crowd with a look of shock. Xander turned to look at Spike, to ask if this was part of the film or some random event that wasn’t meant to happen. Spike was looking up at the naked man, eyes dark and lips slightly parted. Spike shook his head, grabbed the sliver of urn and the world span away from them.

***

“You know you need to get laid when Brian of Nazareth starts looking like a good bed partner.”

Xander opened his eyes. That little trip hadn’t been as bad as the last two, but was still nauseating. He was looking forward to being back in Sunnydale, working at the construction site, or even reading boring old musty books with the gang. Mostly, he was looking forward to being away from Spike, who was creeping him out.

“Is that a vamp thing? You’ll screw anything that moves?”

“If it were, I’d have already shagged you, killed you and moved on.” The maniacal glint in Spike’s eye was all the proof Xander needed that the blonde was deadly serious. “Where are we anyway?”

Xander looked around. They appeared to be in an attic of some description. “This could be anywhere.”

Spike shot him an exasperated look. “Good to know you’re so helpful.” A noise in the corner made Xander jump. Spike jumped too, but was able to cover it up before it was noticed.

“Is that Giles? Giles! We’ve made it home.” Xander started forwards, only to be stopped by Spike’s firm grip on his bicep.

“I don’t think we’re in Sunnyhell. There’s no way we’ve found everything we needed to, and last time I looked, Giles didn’t wear black contact lenses. Must be some independent style film he made in university or something. Be careful; Ripper was a legend amongst the magic users and creatures like us.”

“Like you, you mean,” Xander whispered, never taking his eyes off the Giles look-alike.

The man sat at on side of the room, three hope chests in front of him. Spike could feel the black magic pouring off the one in the middle. It filled his senses and made his head swim. There was a good reason why magic should be dealt with carefully, and this was a shining example. When Giles spoke, the voice sounded like iron filings being dragged over gravel to Spike’s ears and he hissed and stepped back.

“One of these chests holds that which you seek. One holds lust beyond the telling. The other holds instant death. You may choose one box each. Choose wisely.”

Spike nudged Xander towards the box on the far right, while he took up position on the far left. “On the count of three?” Xander asked.

“Whatever. You count though.”

“One… Two… THREE!” They both threw the lids of the boxes open. Spike found himself face to face with a tiny fragment of the urn, which earned him an approving nod and smile from Giles. Xander on the other hand, was face to face with a puff of lilac smoke, which made him splutter and Giles laugh.

As the room dissolved, Spike though he heard Giles tell him to be careful, but he figured that was just his imagination.

***

There was nearly no nausea at all when they landed in a sunlit glade. Spike took the opportunity to enjoy the sun, while Xander took it upon himself to get undressed. When Spike caught sight of the shirtless boy, he was taken aback. Construction really had been good for the lad. Firm, bronzed muscles, and a dusting of dark hair. He let his gaze drift upwards, only to meet lust-darkened brown eyes.

Xander stared at Spike like he was seeing him for the first time. How had he never realised just how damn lickable Spike was? If only the vamp would get undressed too…

Xander stepped closer to Spike and pushed at the duster, letting it fall to the ground before pulling the t-shirt out from the waist band of Spike’s jeans. He pushed it slowly upwards, loving the tease of going so slowly. When it reached above Spike’s pecs, revealing pebbled nipples, Xander groaned and leant closer to suck one gently into his mouth.

That snapped Spike out of his stunned immobility. It felt good, but this wasn’t a one night stand that he could just throw out of his bed when they’d had their fun; it was Xander, the slayer’s white night, and even if it wasn’t, there was no fun in sleeping with someone that hated you. He gripped Xander’s shoulders, forcing the boy away from his body.

“Don’t do this, boy. You’ll regret it in the morning. Or when the spell wears off.” Xander didn’t listen, or if he did, he didn’t care. He wanted Spike. His arms wound round the narrow waist, making sure the vampire couldn’t pull away from him.  For his part, Spike was hard as a rock, trying to put some distance between himself and the brunette. His resolve was slipping far too quickly.

The last time Spike had had sex was months ago, and that was with Harmony, so it had been nothing special. He wasn’t sure if all vampires were bisexual; sure, enough of Giles’ books said that was the case, but as Spike had fancied men as well as women ever since he had hit puberty over a century ago, he couldn’t pass comment.

Xander’s denim covered erection brushed against Spike’s and both groaned at the contact. When Xander brushed his lips against Spike’s the vampire’s tentative grip on control disappeared. He kissed back, tasting the human for the first time. He was warm and tasted masculine. Spike’s one and only experience with a man had been with Angelus, who tasted only of blood and was nowhere near as warm as the human.

Xander pushed Spike to the floor. Straddling the now shirtless body, he mewled in pleasure as Spike reached up and tweaked his nipples. Changing positions slightly, he ground down against Spike’s hardness. Spike shouted at the sensation, hardening even more. His fingers fumbled at Xander’s flies, just as Xander’s fingers started tugging at the buttons of the black denim covering the most fun parts of Spike’s body.

The lust clouded Xander’s thoughts. Under the resolute urgency, there was a tiny voice that told him this shouldn’t be happening. That voice was shut up very quickly at the first glimpse of Spike’s cock. It was long, thick, pale and hooded, although the foreskin was drawing back as Spike’s arousal increased. Pearly beads of pre-cum had formed at the tip and fallen on the firm stomach in a sticky, salty little puddle. Xander wanted to taste it, to see if it was as delicious as it looked. But given the way Spike was panting for unneeded breath, and his own painful arousal, it would have to wait.

With both erections free, Xander pinned Spike’s body to the ground with his own larger one and set a punishing pace, sliding pre-cum dampened skin over pre-cum dampened skin. Spike’s breath hitched, his fingers dragging down Xander’s back, leaving red welts from shoulder to ass. The motions turned frantic as both sought their release.  

Xander finished first, his cum shooting in powerful jets over Spike’s stomach and chest. Before his cock had even fully softened, he seemed to come back to himself, realising what he had done. He made to push away from Spike’s body, but the look of need on Spike’s face stopped him. The blue eyes were nearly black with desire, lips swollen from the rough kissing, and the chest was heaving. In the end, it was the whispered “please” that persuaded Xander to finish what he had started. He wrapped one large, calloused hand around Spike’s dick, and two strokes later, Spike was spilling his own load, letting it pool with Xander’s on pale flesh.

Xander felt guilty and disgusted with himself. He had _used_ Spike. He had used _Spike._ They had got off together. Xander closed his eyes and stood, looking around for wherever his shirt had ended up. He found it near a large fern, and stooped to retrieve it. As he stood, he felt Spike’s hand close on his arm again.

“Thanks. For not walking away the second you got your end away. And for…” Spike swallowed audibly. “And for giving me my fantasy, even if you didn’t know it at the time. Never done that in the sun before.” The hand left his arm and the voice trailed off, thick with emotion, and Xander knew that Spike would need a moment of privacy. Which lasted all of two seconds before, “Uh, Harris? Don’t want to alarm you, but is that a dinosaur?”

  



	4. Chapter 4

 

Xander spun round to see what Spike was looking at. Sure enough, a huge dinosaur was grazing on the leaves of a tree barely a hundred feet from where they stood. Spike stared in awe. A rumbling call from further away could be heard clearly. Everything around them was green: there were no sounds besides the calls of pre-historic monsters and the soft rustle of wind through the trees. No cars, no sky scrapers, nothing but nature. The dinosaurs made Xander a little nervous- the one grazing near them looked as though it could squash a tiny human like him without even realizing. That didn't seem to be a problem for Spike, who had left Xander's side and was stroking the creature as if it were no more than a large dog. Encouraged by Spike's actions, Xander crept forward, jumping back when Spike's new pet took a step towards him.  
  
"I can hear its heartbeat," Spike muttered, more to himself than to Xander. "It's a _real_ dinosaur. Kinda wish I could keep it," he continued with a grin.  
  
Xander laughed. "Yeah, you could ride him to the Scooby meetings. Hey! I could build him a kennel to sleep in."  
  
Spike rolled his eyes. "His kennel would have to be bigger than my whole crypt. Might raise a few questions with the grounds-keeper too."  
  
"What grounds-keeper?" Xander asked, amazed that someone outside the Scooby gang would voluntarily spend time in graveyards.  
  
"Danny. Nice enough bloke. Doesn't mind me staying, keeping the vamp activity down and such. For some reason I think he'd be pissed if he ended up on dino-sitting duty as well as weeding."  
  
The dinosaur chose that minute to lean down and blow a stream of warm breath over the pair. It finally seemed to have acknowledged them, and didn't seem threatened in the slightest. Having given both men a thorough sniffing, and determining that Xander moved too much to be edible, Mortimer (Spike's decision) went back to eating leaves.  
  
"Wait ‘til the guys hear about this. I bet Giles will be jealous," Xander said.  
  
"Rupert's so old and stuffy that the last time he got shagged was when the dinosaurs roamed the earth," Spike replied with a snort, which Mortimer seemed to echo from above their heads.  
  
"That's a little harsh coming from you, dead boy junior. Plus, I'm not sure what 'shagged' means, but I'm guessing when used in the same sentence as 'Giles', it should deserve a resounding 'eww!'"  
  
Spike smirked at the brunette. "Not like you can talk, mate; not after that little display earlier." Xander spluttered and turned bright red. Spike carried on smirking. "Don't worry, mate. It’s not like I'll be spilling the beans to your little friends when we get home." _If we get home..._  
  
Spike hadn't mentioned it to Xander, but the thought had occurred to him that their task could take them years. They may be in a clearing now, but all around them was dense jungle. One wrong turn and they may never find what they were looking for. They had no idea how fast time was moving back in their reality, but time here was passing normally. Or at least it seemed to be. All he really had to go on were Xander's reactions; the boy was sleeping at night, constantly hungry- which Spike quickly realized was normal Xanderish behaviour- and required regular bathroom breaks. All of which suggested that this was a normal, healthy human. With a mortal lifespan. If it took them a decade, a century, a millennium to recover all the pieces of urn, there was a very real chance that Spike would be returning alone. Or if they got pinged into the middle of Apocalypse Now, or some other war type film, Spike could survive a bullet to pretty much anywhere. Xander couldn't. Fragile mortals needed hospitals and medicine, not a good day's kip and eight pints of O-neg.  
  
From above them, Mortimer let out a loud, baleful cry and set off as quick as he could given his enormous bulk. Spike grabbed Xander's hand and pulled him away from the trees and towards a pile of rocks off to the side just in time to stop the boy being trampled by a panicked stegosaurus. As they watched, a t-rex came crashing into the clearing, bellowing in rage at the frantic prey desperately trying to escape. The stegosaurus stood no chance against the vicious teeth of the predator. Xander unconsciously tightened his grip on Spike's hand, which he was still gripping tightly. Both seemed to realize they were holding hands at the same time, and let go as though touching a live rattlesnake. Their eyes met for a second before both looked away in embarrassment.  
  
The pair stayed as still and silent as they could, and, as the sun began to fade from the sky, leaving a pretty pink glow behind, the t-rex moved away from the carcass it had feasted on, and back into the cover of the trees.  
  
Spike rubbed on his aching legs and stretched, feeling every joint and vertebrae pop in response. Xander winced in sympathy. His own muscles ached more than they had after his first apocalypse, which was saying something. His stomach growled, sounding loud in the quiet. Spike shot him a look.  
  
"Trying to be a dinosaur yourself, pet?"  
  
Xander rolled his eyes. "Nope. Just hungry," he said, ignoring a second grumble from his belly. "Any idea what's safe to eat round here? I'm guessing there isn't a conveniently placed Twinkie factory round the next corner."  
  
"Do I look like I'm familiar with the local flora and fauna?" Spike snapped.  
  
"Geez... I thought you were all old and smart--"  
  
"I'm old, Harris, but not pre-historic. And for some reason, my Literature professors didn't cover 'Herbaceous plants of the Jurassic era'. Best you'll manage is a dino-burger if we happen to meet Fred Flintstone." Xander's stomach rumbled at the mention of burgers.  
  
"We'll have to move soon, won't we?" Xander asked, just before letting out a very unmanly shriek as a giant cockroach scuttled over his foot. As if in answer, the unseen creatures in the woods increased their volumes.  
  
It was much as Spike remembered the rain forest being in South America- never really silent, with just as many nocturnal creatures as there were diurnal ones. It made sleeping difficult for both humans and vampires, as Xander would discover soon enough, Spike reckoned.  
  
As the mortal drifted into an uneasy sleep, Spike kept watch, unsure of what to do if threatened by a two tonne killing machine. He usually made a point of avoiding tangling with anything that had bigger teeth than he did, especially if fighting solo. Xander knew which end of a stake to use, and could swing a mean axe, but unarmed? Neither human nor vampire would fare well.  
  
That got Spike thinking about the time difference between realities again, and when Xander woke at daybreak, Spike was glad of the distraction.  
  
"Morning, whelp," he greeted. Xander yawned in response before standing, stretching, and shuffling off to relieve himself against a fern. Spike turned his back, partly to give the boy some privacy and partly to avoid seeing... that. One of the many benefits of being a vampire was the lack of bathroom breaks.  
  
Xander shuffled sleepily back towards Spike, grabbed the pack and stood waiting.  
  
"This is going to be like finding a specific needle in a stack of needles, isn't it?" Xander groused as Spike turned in a slow circle, taking in their surroundings for what felt like the billionth time.  
  
"We could walk around in a circle and mark the trees with something so we don't get lost?" the vampire suggested. "Or we could go in, metaphorical guns blazing and get lost or eaten. Or we _could_ find it in the first place we look, so it’s all swings and roundabouts really." Xander nodded in agreement.  
  
Picking a direction at random, they set off, having quickly vetoed the idea of splitting up to search. Neither spoke aside from the odd remark on what they could see and hear. Spike could tell Xander's mind was buzzing. He hoped the boy hadn't had the same realization that Spike himself had reached the day before. He nearly breathed a sigh of relief when Xander spoke up.  
  
"Erm... About what happened... With us, I mean," he began, waving between himself and Spike, "I... I... I have no idea what I'm even asking..."  
  
Spike scowled and stopped walking. "I already said I wouldn't go telling. I keep my word, Whelp."  
  
Xander nodded, something close to relief passing briefly across his features; an expression that Spike felt as a painful stab. Of course he didn't expect the kid to be suddenly flying a rainbow flag and shouting 'I like men!" just because of a magically induced bit of frottage, however nice it had felt at the time. Hell, for Spike, that was barely foreplay... But it would have been nice if Xander acknowledged what had happened between them. Still, it wouldn't be the first time something like this had happened; hell, he'd been _engaged_ to the slayer and look how she treated him now...  
  
"It won't happen again, I promise," Xander was saying.  
  
 _Shame. He's not all that bad for one of the slayer's lot..._ "If it does, just make sure not to go blaming me for it, got it? Could do without the agro, thanks."  
  
Xander grabbed hold of Spike's arm as the blonde started walking again. "I know it wasn't your fault. I through myself at you; I begged you for it. It was that other Giles's fault for making with the cryptic and the magic powder!" he announced, waving his arms emphatically as though the other Giles would see and get the point.  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Spells, magic, blah, blah, blah and you get to keep your precious heterosexual masculinity. Now will you shut the hell up before everything on the continent realizes we're here?" Spike hissed. Xander looked abashed.  
  
They continued in silence, jumping at every snapping twig and rustling leaf. Around them, the trees became more spaced apart, so that within ten minutes of walking as quietly as possible and scrambling up muddy banks and jumping over the narrowest points of streams, the trees had thinned considerably. They could feel sunlight on their skin from the gaps in the canopy above them, and in front, they could see patches of grass where the sun touched. When they passed the final tree, they blinked at the bright light, shielding their eyes against the glare.  
  
"Guess we're out of the woods now," Xander said with a goofy grin.  
  
"And right into the open. No cover at all," Spike agreed, surveying the flat grass lands they had wandered into.  
  
As if on cue, two hungry looking, reptilian creatures sprang at them. Spike shoved Xander out the way, narrowly preventing the needle sharp teeth in powerful jaws from closing on the boy’s leg. He staggered from the push, but recovered quickly and ran, knowing that Spike would be able to catch up. He felt kinda bad, leaving Spike to face two velociraptors alone, but the blonde had a better chance of winning without a useless human underfoot.  
  
So he ran until the sounds of the fight were well out of earshot and his lungs and muscles burned from the exertion. Certain Spike was following, Xander crashed to the floor, panting heavily, and waited for Spike.  
  
***  
  
Spike snapped the thick neck of the thick neck of the remaining velociraptor with a growl, and send a swift kick to the soft underbelly of its already fallen comrade. The overgrown lizards may have had the home advantage, but Spike wasn't the Slayer of Slayers by sheer bloody luck. His arm bore the battle wounds inflicted by his most recent enemy, and he was in full game face. He sniffed the air, trying to scent out Xander, but the only thing he could pick up on was the freshly spilled blood- a combination of his own and the bested animal's- reminding him of just how long it had been since his last proper meal.  
  
Suddenly ravenous, he ripped into the still warm body, relishing the thick metallic blood that coursed down his throat, coating his tongue and soothing the hunger. Fresh was always better than bagged, and there was no guilt in draining a beaten opponent. It was the way of the game- kill or be killed, survival of the fittest... Blood before everything else.  
  
Reptile blood wasn't as potent as human, but Spike wasn't going to be complaining now he was finally full for the first time since before the thrice-damned chip. His senses were all working at 100% efficiency, something he could feel in his blood as well as his eyes and ears. The puncture marks in his arm had already begun to heal, much to his relief, and the pain was little more than a distant memory.  
  
Now everything was working as it should be, and his hunger was sated, Xander's scent was easy to track. In all honesty, it wouldn't have been difficult to track before if the blood hadn't been a factor- the boy was in real need of a shower and a change of clothes. Some deodorant wouldn't go amiss either.  
  
Target acquired- and hating the sudden use of military style talking inside his own head- Spike followed Xander's path.  
  
***  
  
Taking a nap in the middle of an open field when being eaten by dinosaurs was a real possibility was about as sensible as taking a casual stroll through a graveyard with an open neck wound and a sign saying 'eat me', yet that was exactly what Xander had done. He was so exhausted by the trek through the jungle, followed by running for his life, that closing his eyes for a moment had turned into a light doze. He woke with a start thanks to a loud seagull that was doing what Xander supposed counted as singing for a seagull.  
  
He stood and looked around. No hungry critters with teeth like steak knives greeted him, which was a tick firmly in the plus column. On the other hand, there was no sign of Spike either, which was a mark in the 'uh-oh, begin loading panic software' column. Xander didn't question exactly when Spike being missing-presumed-eaten stopped being something worthy of the Hallelujah Chorus; if he stopped to think about it, there was a fair chance his head would explode from the wrongness of it all. The other thing that was worrying him was the fact that to either side of him were rows of trees in the distance. One was obviously where they had just come from, and the other was unexplored territory: the problem was that he couldn't tell which was which.  
  
Choosing the most reliable method when it came to this sort of thing, Xander began mentally reciting 'eenie meenie miney mo', one finger flipping rhythmically between the two lines of foliage. Decision made, he headed towards his chosen destination, hoping his path would lead him to Spike and not to two pissed off dinosaurs coated with vamp dust.  
  
***  
  
Spike saw Xander heading away from him and sped up. He wasn't about to let the lad get eaten. With his attention focused solely on Xander, Spike didn't notice the bumps and stones underfoot until he caught his foot in a pothole and fell, his ankle cracking as he landed. He growled, loudly, checking the damage to the bone. It didn't feel like a clean break, or like a break at all. It was swelling slightly, and Spike was willing to bed everything he owned- with the exception of his signed Sex Pistols albums- it was a fracture. It would hurt to walk for a while, but his recent meal should fix it within the hour and if he could bind it up, he should be able to walk with little problem. Still hidden in the long grass, he tore his shirt in two and tied a makeshift support around his ankle.  
  
***  
Xander heard the growl and ran. Sure he was about to be mauled to death, he wasn't prepared to stand and wait for fate to find him. Approaching the edge of the woodland, the device on his wrist began to chirp happily.  
  
Then he saw it. The shard of delicate poetry, embedded in the flesh of a strange fruit that was hanging on a vine-like branch just a few feet from him. Trusting that if Spike was alive, he'd end up safe in the same place Xander went, he grabbed the fruit with both hands and pulled it from the vine. He thought he heard Spike shout his name as the world spun away.  
  
***  
  
Spike shouted for Xander to stop, to wait, but the brunette didn't hear or didn't want to hear. Spike's world fell away the second Xander touched the piece of urn, and Spike closed his eyes against the spinning. When they got wherever it was they ended up next, Xander would get a right bollocking for being so reckless.  
  
***  
  
In the park, a helicopter soared over the vast plain. The tyrannosaur, which was feeding on the remains of two smaller dinosaurs, looked up. It roared at the helicopter in frustration. It watched the craft until it was no longer visible, then went back to its meal.


End file.
